


Mugen

by TheStarsHaveAligned



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: F/M, and alone, booze, emotional angst, fic for a prompt, souji being sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:03:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4718726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStarsHaveAligned/pseuds/TheStarsHaveAligned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, falling was all that awaited for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mugen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kashikoi-kawaii](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kashikoi-kawaii).



> 夢幻 - mugen - visions

There were very few times Souji had surrendered to booze, there were even less he had been completely drunk, and to date, he had never passed out.  
  
There is always a first.  
  
Mixing medication for tuberculosis and sake, plus the effects of his incipient fever made the night an interesting challenge. If Matsumoto sensei or Kondo san knew of this he'd be royally fucked up, but hell. At this point it didn't matter anymore if he behaved or not; maybe this way he'd find a way to tame his cough and distract his bloodlust.  
  
Maybe this way he could finally rest.  
  
Nights dragged in a sort of awake nightmare, and even without the candles darkness was not enough to cover the dark splashes of blood of his constant coughs that didn't let him sleep, or eat, or breathe.  
  
So five minutes without coughing or wheezing provided a short lived relief but more than enough. He counted and appreciated minutes as hours. This resembled too much a battle, but inversely, time travelling slower instead of quicker, adrenaline making him _enjoy_ every moment.  
  
His mind started to spin and he let himself fall in the futon, the sake bottle rolling down the mat, and for a moment he relived that moment, the ochimizu vial rolling from under his covers and brightly calling him.   
But that memory was associated to one much more painful than coughs, or the transformation into rasetsu. It brought back all the shame, and disappointment, and pain. Shame for falling, disappointment from mentors, pain in her eyes.  
  
It seemed he dragged too many people with him, although he never intended to.  
  
Laugh and mischief and threats were used to hide himself, but she would not fall for that, and in a way he was both proud and deceived, because the closer she got to him the closer both would be to falling.  
  
In the end, falling was all that awaited for him.   
  
A stupid laugh echoed in the room and it took him a moment to recognise it as his own, his mind travelling to shimabara nights and Shinpachi and Sanosuke and Heisuke. Ah. Memories are awful. Such a pit dragging and unnecessary source of trouble.   
  
He could see all of them, around him, drinking and partying and laughing, as if tomorrow all that awaited were stupid patrols and little punks, as if they were still the miburo dressed in that stupid attention-caller asagiro, just proudly and recklessly running the Edo streets in search for trouble but causing just as much. Before all this became a full out suicide war, and he started to cough and the fucking ochimizu arrived to their lives.  
  
Where, no- when the hell did everything turn out so goddamn wrong. Maybe killing Serizawa triggered all this, or maybe they should have killed him before.  
  
Ah. He didn't know what he was saying anymore, timeliness blurring before him, and a timeless scene surrounding him at the room. That was right, he needn't time, he just needed memories. These harmless images not haunting him. A day like any other, with laughter and music and grumpy Hijikata san, stoic Hajime kun, and happy Kondou san-  
  
He could almost picture Chizuru's beautiful face, pouty lips, rosy cheeks, when he teased her. That was a good memory, definitely. Chizuru pouting was such a good, happy stirring memory...  
  
He closed his eyes and let the sleep come, as the room comfortably spun around him, colors and forms drowning under his eyelids and then.  
  
A weight. A sudden weight in his chest, moving to his side and pressing against him, warm, and smooth and _soft_.  
  
He opened his eyes with a start, adrenaline readying him to jump, and was met with a sight he did not expect.  
  
Most likely this had to be an hallucination. For all he could have traded though, he wished it was not, because there was Chizuru, pressing against him, ducking in his bed. Naked.  
  
 _"Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed"_ , he wanted to ask but the words would not come out. Instead all he could do was try as much as possible to reason with himself what the cause for this could be.  
  
Chizuru, on the other hand was not giving him any chances on thinking. Instead, she pressed more against him making his body completely aware of hers, of every small curve, of every cranny and nook and protuberance and warmth. So warm. And so soft- just the opposite of his current state.  
  
It became worse when, to the worst expectation, she snuggled closer, and after tucking his arm between her breasts, rose her head and locked eyes with him. These brown and honest and naive but determined and gentle eyes.  
  
 _Okay, she is not sleep walking._ That did not help, and Souji kept stiff and trying as much not to take any kind of advantage of this bizarre situation. Maybe ha had misunderstood; maybe Matsumoto sensei told her the way to alleviate his fever was this - why the hell would he do that!?  
  
To Souji's further astonishment Chizuru wrapped her leg to his and kissed his shoulder, lightly, but longly, and then looked at him again. Pleadingly.  
  
In this completely unfair situation there was only one thing an honorable man would do, and that would be waking her to her senses and probably give her something to dress with, and then tease her. Just to... make things less awkward. This was not rejection. This was... well, it was. It had to. Because Souji knew this was not how things should be. Okay, maybe he wasn't half as uncomfortable with the situation as he should, and he'd not deny he had thought of her like this -like a woman, he meant- for a while, but. This was jumping heaps forward and-  
  
And Chizuru decided she was not about to let him think about this any longer, and instead moved to stay almost on top of him, breasts pressing against his chest and heat coming from her in an overwhelming way, way hotter than any fever he had felt, and nibbled his adam's apple.  
  
If this was not consenting, Souji could not think of anything any more straightforward.   
  
Okay, damn it all.  
  
His hands laid on her hips and softly caressing her sides reached her back, to cup her face with his right hand. A last look.  
  
 _Tell me you really want this. Tell me this is not..._  
  
She smiled, gently, long eyelashes almost hiding her eyes and chocolate brown hair framing her beautiful smile.  
  
 _Tell me this is not the hallucination of a far too gone man far too gone in love with whom he should not._  
  
He kissed her, slowly, and then almost not stopping, kissed her again and again, sweet lips calling for him as he hungrily but slowly roamed her body. Just as he had dreamt awake too many times to be sane, just as he had insanely wished too many times, and mutedly chanted her name between kisses and nibbles to her neck, turning and tossing in bed, flipping her below him and tasting her body as she squirmed but did not stop touching him too. In a tangled mess of limbs and heat, in a desperate run to feel each other, accelerating by seconds in need, her legs wrapping his hips, and her arms around his neck, pressing him to her, fingers digging in his scalp and almost pulling from his hair whenever he pressed against her.  
  
He wanted her, had wanted and loved Chizuru since so long he could not even recall it, but realizing that and accepting it was different, and about acknowledging it to her... that was impossible. Souji could not understand why, but he had not told her, and he had had chances, and he could have just taken her by her word and make her his, he could have just forfeited his cough and imminent death and just confess, but something, something stopped him. Something stopped him from telling her...  
  
To follow him.  
  
It is never gently nor slowly, and you can never get used to it; to the way your eyes open with a start, as if your body had suddenly jumped off a cliff, and your muscles are tense with adrenaline, lungs reaching for air as you gasp because there is not enough to fill them and not asphixiate. It's never gently how reality crashes on you, and leaves you panting, trembling and frantically trying to ubicate your whereabouts, disoriented and lost. Until it downs on you. Until you blink and swallow and breathe.  
  
Until you wake up.  
  
Until it all falls in place; why his voice would not come out, why she would not speak at all.   
  
Chizuru was not there. She had never been. She was out there, fighting with them, and following Hijikata san. Just as he made her promise to.  
  
And the room was filled with sound again, with bitter laugh, and coughs. Coughs as he got up from the futon and roamed the room almost frantically, almost desperately in search for the damn thing until he found it.   
  
Really, Hijikata san had the worst taste, but this was not half as bad as he thought once he tried it on. This western uniform.   
  
Because dreams can only let you escape so far, so if you want something you must fight for it until the end. Or accept you lost it.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> fic for a prompt “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” for kashikoi-kawaii (tumblr user)


End file.
